Badly written poetry
by GeekyGothGal
Summary: I'm afraid it is basically just another Q/OC fic. But hopefully with a bit of a difference. The story of MI6's Quartermaster and my OC, Jessica Oakdale, as they try to deal with their crushes, at the same time trying (and failing slightly) not to let their lives turn into a badly-written rom com. WARNING: Purely fluffy cuteness. Not serious in any way.
1. I er um

I'm sorry. I had to. Sorry if it's a bit silly or sappy, but I just _had_ to write it. That said, I tried not to make it_ too_ silly or sappy. I've just never written anything romancey before, and I don't really read anything much romancey either (other than various amazing fanfictions). Let me know if you like it, and if you hate it you can let me know too (but please say why so I might be able to improve it)! I own no characters or settings apart from my OC and her family. Q's thoughts are in _underlined italics_, while those of my OC are just in _italics_. I hope Q's in character, but let me know if he isn't.

On with the story:

Chapter One: I…er…well…um…nevermind.

Jessica Oakdale _was_ pretty. _Very _pretty. Most people didn't really think so, but she was. And clever. And really quite funny–Q mentally kicked himself. He was being pathetic about this. It wasn't affecting his work or anything, but still. He wasn't a blooming confused teenager anymore. He shouldn't be feeling like this about some girl who worked in his department. And if he had to feel like this, shouldn't he know how to at least say something to the girl? Then again, whatever God had given him in computer skills, He had most definitely taken away in people skills. Especially the romantic kind. Q banged his head against the computer keyboard, then deleted the line of gobbledegook he'd accidentally typed.

_Maybe I should ask for advice._But who would he ask? The only person the young Quartermaster knew who might actually be able to help was Bond, but there was no way Q was asking him for advice about girls. It would seem so childish, and Bond had already been _very_ clear about his thoughts on the Quartermaster's age. _There is no possible way this can be as hard as I'm imagining it will be. I'll just ask her out for lunch. Simple. I'm not the sort to be reduced to 'I…er…well…um…nevermindimgoingnow'. At least, I hope not. _

_Oh, snap out of it, Jess. You're being stupid. _Jessica Oakdale chided herself. She'd been thinking about _him_ again. Not that it was likely he'd ever fall for her. After all, he was the _Quartermaster_. She was just some random techie. Not particularly pretty (her eyes were a boring colour, her hair was boring, she was too pale, her mouth was too big, her lips too thin, she could go on for days about her shortcomings, and that would just cover her looks). She would admit that she was intelligent, but at MI6 that wasn't exactly an unusual trait and besides, she'd never be as clever as he was. She doubted he actually remembered she existed apart from when she brought him some information he had to organise in one of the MI6 databases, or when she said 'hi' to him in the hallway. He was always polite to her, but she didn't actually know how he was with other people, so she didn't know whether to be encouraged by this or not. Jessica mostly just accepted that her crush on Q was just that: a crush. A silly-schoolgirl crush that wouldn't come to anything. _But those eyes… no. Forget it, Jess. He's way out of your league, and you know it._

"Jessica, could you take these to the Quartermaster? I'm a bit busy right now." A coworker held out some bits of paper with writing on them. Probably important.

"Of course. I've got nothing else to do."

"You never do when it comes to him." The coworker smirked. _Is it really that blooming obvious?_

"You shut up." Jessica snorted. She took the papers and started walking to Q's office.

Someone knocked on his office door. Q looked up from his work.

"Come in." Jessica came in and handed him some bits of paper with sums and coordinates on them.

"I was sent to give these to you, sir."

"Thank you." He nodded at her and smiled slightly. _Here's your chance! Say something!_ "Is that all?" _You idiot._Jessica nodded, and turned to walk away. _NOW!_The voice in Q's head commanded.

"Um, Jessica?" He tried to sound casual. The girl turned around.

"Yes sir?"

"I was wondering if you might like to have lunch with me today?" _Took you long enough__. _Jessica looked quite surprised. Her green-grey eyes widened slightly, and her mouth formed a huge smile.

"Of course! I'd love to!"

"So, I'll meet you outside the building at twelve? Is that a good time?"

"Yes, yes it's fine! I'll be there!" She left the room. _There,_the boy thought to himself, _that wasn't so painful, was it?_He gave a satisfied smile and started working on the information Jessica had given him. It was definitely a good thing that he only needed half of his brain to do so. Halfway down the hall, a certain techie was thanking her lucky stars she didn't have anything important to do, because for some reason her brain had turned to mush.


	2. The kinda sorta date

Chapter Two: The Kinda Sorta 'Date' I Suppose Kinda Type Thing.

"Hello!" The two coworkers greeted each other in unison, having both arrived exactly on time.

"You look very nice, Jessica." Said person blushed and tugged nervously on her hair. It was dirty blonde in colour, and depending on what view you decided to take, was either lank or just very straight. You can probably guess who took which view. _I do not, _she thought.

"Well, thank you. So do you." Now it was Q's turn to blush. That fact in and of itself surprised him. He did not blush. He had never, to his knowledge, blushed. Why, then, was he blushing now? It wasn't as if it was the first compliment he'd ever received in his life.

"Your hair looks like you tried to make it neat by applying reverse psychology. But it suits you." _What the heck did I say that for? For a moment I thought I might be able to survive lunch without saying something completely stupid, but no. _

"Meaning?" Q gave an uncertain half-smile.

"Sorry. My brain sometimes fails to filter my words before my mouth says them. It was meant as a compliment. I'm sorry." Jessica smiled apologetically.

"It's fine. Shall we go, then?"

"Yes, lets! Where are we going?"

"Well, there's a Yo!Sushi just around the corner. Do you like sushi?"

"Oh, it's my absolute favourite! I didn't know you liked it, though; I thought you'd be more of a traditional English food type of person." The pair started walking.

"Just because I like Earl Grey tea doesn't mean I dislike food from everywhere else on the globe, you know."

"Oh, I know. I'm sorry. I just, I don't know really. Sorry."

"It's _fine_. But you apologise too much. You have nothing to apologise about."

"Sorry." Jessica said. Q chuckled. "What?" She asked in a mock-offended manner, then laughed.

"Nothing. You're funny, that's all." _And pretty. I'm not saying that yet, though__, _he thought. Jessica, meanwhile, was having her own thoughts. _I'm funny? I always thought that 'tactless and overly apologetic' was closer to the mark. Still, he thinks I'm funny! *sigh*. Good God, did I just sigh inside my own head?_

The pair sat down at a booth in the restaurant, and spent a couple of minutes in slightly awkward silence, staring at the conveyor belt. Eventually they both chose something. Q soon realised that his choice was considerably more spicy than anticipated. Jessica laughed at his reaction.

"It can't possibly be that spicy!"

"It can! You try it!" Q spluttered between coughs. Jessica tried it.

"Oh God! I take it back, I take it all back, that is _deadly_!"

"I told you so." Q smirked. That proved to have been a very effective conversation starter, and they chatted amiably for a while.

"So, are you allowed to tell me your actual name, or is it not allowed?"

"No, I can tell you." Q said, with a laugh. "It's Quentin."

"That's a nice name. I suppose Q wasn't such a huge leap from that, was it?"

"No, I suppose not." He'd never really thought about it that much.

"Can I call you Quentin?"

"Of course you can." For some reason that Q didn't know, this simple statement made Jessica smile the brightest smile he'd seen her wear. Then she blushed and looked down at her plate again, still smiling. They continued to eat their lunch, talking about all sorts. They found that they actually had quite a lot in common.

"You like Sweeney Todd? It's my absolute favourite!" Jessica exclaimed, looking elated. _We have a lot in common! That has to be good, right?_

"Of course I do. I wouldn't go quite so far as to say it was my 'absolute favourite', but it is certainly very good. It's both touching and amusing, and Stephen Sondheim is a genius at his art." Q shrugged.

"He's a bit like you, then. Quentin." Jessica grinned. _You do say the stupidest things, Jessica._

"Flatterer." Q muttered. He tried to stop himself blushing, and kinda failed. _I have never blushed before in my life. This is the second time today. Why does she make me blush?_

"I am not! It is _so _true, and you know it. I mean, come on, you're the _Quartermaster_! You can't deny the fact that that clearly means you're exceptionally talented, especially since you're the youngest Quartermaster in MI6 history."

"Well, thank you. Though you must know that not everybody was exactly happy about someone my age being Quartermaster."

"Oh, I know that. Quite a few of the slightly older people in Q Branch aren't exactly happy about being the subordinate of someone younger than them. It's very funny, actually."

"In what way?"

"Just that they complain about you having the job, but if they had it they probably couldn't do it. Sorry for bringing it up."

"Oh, no, that's perfectly alright. It's always useful to know what one's subordinates think of their boss." The last sentence was said in a ridiculously posh voice, just to confirm that it was a joke. Jessica laughed. They'd never had a proper conversation before, but they joked and talked like old friends._She's amazing. __He's brilliant. __It's like I've known her my whole life. __I feel like I've known him forever. __I am starting to sound like a soppy poem. __I'm reminding myself of a really badly written rom com. _

Too quickly for both of them, they had to pay and go back to work.

"That was nice. Thank you, Quentin." Jessica said as they walked back.

"Thank _you_. It was nice to get to know you better."

"Hey, are you free again for lunch tomorrow?" _It is absolutely worth a try._

"Yes, I am. Why?" A smile tugged at the corner of Q's mouth.

"Well, I know a really nice coffee shop not far from here. Would you like to come with me?"

"I would love to"

"See you then, in that case. Bye."

"I look forward to it. Goodbye."


	3. I'll cook something

Chapter Three: I'll Cook Something.

It was now the beginning of December, three months after Quentin had first asked Jessica out to lunch. Since then, they'd gone to lunch together every day. They now knew most things about each other: family, likes, dislikes, favourite this and that, how to make the other laugh, that kind of thing. People were beginning to assume that they were together, an assumption that neither of them confirmed, but nor did either of them state was incorrect.

On this particular day, Jessica was just about to leave her flat when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. There was no way to deny it, she had definitely started putting more effort into her appearance since that first day. Before, she had never really bothered, believing herself to be a lost cause as far as looks were concerned. She'd just tied her hair up in a limp ponytail and worn whatever came to hand first. Now she chose her outfit with moderate care every day, and usually tried to do _something _with her hair. She still didn't bother with makeup, though. Makeup at work just didn't feel right to her.

Q's phone made a sound that told him he had a text. He checked the text. _Brilliant. Work meeting over lunch. _He thought of Jessica._They could have picked a better time._ When he arrived at MI6, he immediately sought the girl out.

"Hi."

"What's wrong?" When you see someone every day for three months, you learn to recognise when something's not quite right with them.

"It's just that I have a meeting today over lunchtime, so I won't be able to make it." He looked genuinely apologetic.

"Oh." Jessica seemed disappointed. Q had a sudden inspiration.

"Would you like to come over to my flat for dinner instead, to make up for it? I'll cook something."

"I'd love to! What time?"

"Is 7pm a good time?"

"Definitely. Let's just hope that there's no national security breach, then."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed."

"I wouldn't; that'd look pretty weird at a meeting." Jessica said seriously. They both laughed.

"See you at seven, then."

"See you then."

Q wondered what to do for dinner. Most people were quite surprised to learn that he was a decent cook. He didn't understand what they didn't get; obviously a person can't survive on take-aways, so eventually everyone who lives alone has to learn to cook something edible. What to cook tonight, though? There was always spaghetti bolognese. That was easy and had little room for any really major catastrophes. Jessica liked pasta, and so did he. Bolognese it was.

Jessica checked her clock: 6:30. She had ages; Q's flat was only fifteen minutes' walk. If she'd been taking a taxi, she would have had to set off now. _I love this area of London: it's just about the only place on Earth where taking a cab is twice as slow as walking. _She read a book for a bit: 6:43. She checked herself in the mirror one last time before setting off. _I hope I don't look like I'm trying too hard. _She was wearing a forest green dress that made her eyes look less grey than they usually did, along with black pumps. She wore a little makeup for once: brown eyeliner and mascara, with clear lipgloss. Her earrings were little black sparkly studs, with a matching necklace. Finally, she grabbed her nicest coat (which was a big fuzzy black duffel coat) and headed out of the door.

_Buzz! Buzz! _"Hello?"

"Hi Quentin! It's Jessica."

"I'll buzz you in. Hold on a moment…"

"Thanks! See you in a minute!"

"Hi."

"Hi. Jessica, you look…"_Beautiful. Amazing. _"Very pretty."_You could have done better than that._

"Thank you. So do you." _That came out sounding dumb. _"I mean, handsome. You know…" _Aaaand, I just made it worse._

"Um, dinner's spaghetti bolognese. You like that, right?"

"Of course!" _I'm hopeless._

"This is really nice, Quentin. You're really good at cooking."

"Well, thank you. I suppose I sort of have to be, what with living alone and all."

"It's still not fair!" Jessica joked. "You're not allowed to be as smart as you are _and _good at cooking!"

"Sorry." Q grinned.

"You should be."

"Do you want to watch a film or something after dinner?"

"Yeah, why not? Do you have a particular film in mind?"

"I don't know. What about Sweeney Todd?"

"Yes! Do you have that?"

"Would I suggest watching it if I didn't?"

"No."

After the film was over, the two of them sat next to each other on the little sofa in Q's living room, just talking about whatever came into their heads.

"My hair is so boring." Jessica complained as some of it fell into her eyes. "So very, very boring."

"No it isn't. What's boring about it?"

"The colour, the fact that it has no volume whatsoever, I could go on but I don't want to bore you."

"You do know that lots of people pay a fortune for really good straighteners so that they can get hair as straight as yours, don't you? And as for the colour, it's my personal opinion that it is a very pretty one."

"Really? You think so?"

"I do. It is my personal opinion that you have no reason to give yourself grief about your appearance."

"Thanks. So you're saying that you think I'm pretty?" Jessica tilted her head to one side.

"Not exactly. 'Beautiful' is closer to the mark." Q smiled tenderly.

"You really think so?" _That is one thing I have never heard anyone tell me. Or expected to hear. __Why does she look so surprised? Surely her own looks can't have entirely escaped her notice?_

"Would I be saying it if I didn't?"

"Probably not. You know, you're very beautiful yourself. Handsome. Whatever the appropriate word is. I just ruined the moment, didn't I?" _Again._

"Not at all. You're the best friend I've ever had, you know. Maybe I don't exactly think of you as a friend, but close enough. That came out wrong… I mean, you mean a lot to me. I… it's probably not exactly clear where I'm trying to go with this. I''m not good at explaining things that aren't technology-related. I should probably stop…talking…now." Q gabbled. _Why on earth did I just gabble? I do not gabble. Then again, before she came a long I didn't blush or laugh about pointless things either. Maybe that's partly why I feel like this._

"Quentin?" Her voice was quiet.

"Yes?" His voice came out almost as a squeak.

"Can you clarify your meaning? Because I'm not sure what you're trying to say."

"What I'm trying to say… that is, what I mean to say is…"

"Whatever it is, you can say it. You know that."

"I… Jessica, I love you. There, I said it." _Oh my God. Does he mean it? _She looked hard at his face. _I think he means it. Oh God, I think he means it! I love him so much._

"You sure did. And… I reciprocate." There was a pause.

"Are you prone to cold sores?"

"That was random." Jessica laughed. "No I'm not. Why?"

"Neither am I. I just had to check. And since I no longer trust my brain to come up with a complete coherent sentence…" Q pressed his lips to Jessica's in a gentle kiss. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and smiling against his lips at the fact that, even in a romantic moment, he had remained as practical as ever. _Are you prone to cold sores? That's the Quentin I accidentally fell in love with. _He put one hand around her waist, and the other in her hair. _Less than one minute ago I had only ever imagined this. Or has it been longer than one minute? It's true, time does do something weird in this kind of situation__. _After a few moments they broke apart, both blushing furiously.

"Erm, your glasses are a bit wonky." Jessica adjusted them for him, trying to defuse the awkwardness that suddenly hung in the air.

"Thanks. Um, that really happened, didn't it?"

"I think it did."

"Good."

"Yes. Um."

"Er."

"To 'err' is human, to 'arr' is pirate." Q laughed at Jessica's sorry attempt at a joke. "I should probably be getting back home now. See you tomorrow!"

"Ok."

"Wait, so are we officially going out now?"

"Yes. I think so." Q smiled in a way that suggested that Jessica's brain hadn't been entirely engaged when she asked the question.

"Sorry. I just had to check. See you tomorrow. Love you!"

"Love you too."


End file.
